The Book of Mormon, which originated from these visions, contains such a wealth of historical events, with facts, names and geographical data, that it could not have formed part of the knowledge of a seventeen-year-old boy.
As with all visions, there was 'something' here. This 'something' needs investigation. It was definitely not a demonstration by the powers of hell, because the results were positive. That would be, to follow the Church Fathers, a con-tram tontrariis (fighting opposites with opposites).
On 2nd April, 1968 passers-by observed figures like white doves, which had fluid outlines and slowly met in a mist, above the domes of the old Coptic church in the Cairo suburb of Zeitun. In a ghostlike metamorphosis the mist assumed the aspect of a human figure. It was so radiant that the spectators were blinded and could only follow the phenomenon with their eyes screwed up. The vision showed itself at the same place in the same way on other evenings.
The Coptic Patriarch Kyrillos VI at once convened a commission of priests, scholars and lay members of the Coptic community. This commission, along with thousands of Cairo citizens - Copts, Moslems, Hindus, Christians of all shades, members of sects - declared that they had seen a 'beautiful lady'
radiating light above
the domes of the church. That was six years ago. On the evening of 12th April the Egyptian photographer Wagih Rizk Malta, on the hunt for a sensation, took the first snapshot of a vision of Mary in the sky. On 14th April the Patriarch produced the photograph at a press conference.
It showed a dazzlingly white shape with an unidentifiable figure against the background of the three domes near the lower edge of the picture above the church roof. Numerous witnesses confirmed having seen a 'beautiful female figure', by signing a document to that effect. [22]
On 22nd March, 1974 I visited the godforsaken hole of San Damiano. It was not easy to find, for there is no signpost to show the way. I soon realized that signposts are unnecessary here, as everyone you ask knows the farm of the Quattrini family on which 'Mama Rosa' lives and works. (San Damiano lies south of Piacenza and Piacenza south of Milan. ) Pilgrims from every country under the sun find their way here, as a park full of cars of every make, with number plates of every nationality, proves.
The monotonous sound of the rosary being recited came from a window of the farmhouse: 'Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou among women ...' The pilgrims muttered the responses rhythmically.
The south wall of the farmstead was covered with votive tablets (offerings dedicated to a saint at a pilgrimage shrine): Maria has helped! Cured of severe illness! Thanks for all eternity! I am healthy again! Passed my examination! None of the languages I know are missing from these ex votos. 'Mama Rosa' must indeed be able to work miracles. I had come to the right address.
In one part of the yard long rows of red oil lamps flickered on iron shelves. Behind them on a table stood the large plastic bottles with 'miraculous water' from San Damiano. It is given away free: nothing is sold at Mama Rosa's. Devotional objects and souvenirs are on sale in the few shops in the village.
A white statue of the Blessed Virgin sat with inviting demeanour, a rose in each hand, framed with flowers, behind an iron grille on a stone plinth, locked up like a rare animal in the zoo. To the right was a pew, behind it a 'cloister'. Figures in a plastic tunnel represented the Stations of the Cross. Here and in front of the statue pilgrims knelt on the cement floor, their faces turned to the grille.
A farm woman in a shapeless dress met me. She was about fifty years old. Judging by the photographs I have seen, she could be Mama Rosa's sister.
I addressed her: 'Excusa, signora ... I have come all the way from Switzerland to ask Mama Rosa a few questions.' 'No, no! That's not possible. Mama Rosa has to pray now.' 'It doesn't matter, I'll wait an hour or two or come back in the morning. I'm a writer and I'm interested in visions of the kind Mama Rosa ...' In a fury she literally spouted at me: 'Mama Rosa cannot talk to you, she's ill, she's really ill ...'
I was persistent For a fraction of a second the idea flashed into my head of trying a few lira notes, which open the thickest doors elsewhere in Italy. I did not do so; after all I am at a miraculous spot.
But - I am getting no further.
Before I went there, I knew from publications [23] what was supposed to happen at San Damiano and what made Mama Rosa a magnet for believers in miracles.
On 29th September, 1961 Mrs. Rosa Quattrini was doubled up with pain in her bed. She was due to have a hernia operation on the following day. She had already had three children by Caesarean operations. The eldest was studying at the seminary at Piacenza, the little ones were looked after by Aunt Adele.
Money was always scarce in the house. On that particular day they had scraped together 1, 000 lire to take to the hospital. Aunt Adele was cooking a meagre repast in the kitchen when a young lady knocked at the door. She asked for a generous gift for the Church of Santa Maria della Grazia in San Giovanni Rotondo where miracle-working Father Pio was active. Aunt Adele, to whom money was as